HOLDING FAST

Love and Order

by

Jeanine Binder

GENRE: Contemporary Romance

......Been there, done that – there wasn’t much that Eli Walker hadn’t experienced as a cop. Even working in one of the better precincts in New York City didn’t help dispel the depravity he saw on a daily basis. It was all part and parcel of his mantra of living life in the now, not worrying about the future.

And especially with women. No strings, no attachments, and he made that perfectly clear before he ever bedded them. Relationships were not on his agenda – not now, not anytime in the near future. Women flocked to him and he could take his pick; himself exiting the encounter with what he’d wanted and leaving them aching for more, left dreaming of his curly locks and bronze body.

A chance encounter pulling a mugger off of a woman changed his whole world. She was blonde and beautiful – Eli didn’t care about any of the interracial politics that would surround any serious relationship. He just knew he had to have Ainsley, like an alcoholic needs his next drink. This was all new territory for Eli and could he stay to the path, all the way to its end? Or would she be like all the others in his life ?…...

I felt her press into me for warmth. I wrap my legs around hers, pulling her body firmly against mine. I knew I gave off a lot of heat – previous women in my bed had likened me to an oversized space heater. Am sure my size had a lot to do with it and it made being outside in the cold New York winters much more palatable. I was perfectly content to lay there and watch this gorgeous woman sleep. She’d slipped my shirt on after we finished and there was nothing sexier than seeing the tails fall just to the top of her thighs. My imagination did double time thinking how I would like it to be my hand there instead of my shirt, but I didn’t want to wake her up. Well, at least not for a few minutes anyway. I was already up and ready so that wasn’t an issue – no Viagra or Cialis in my future – but I was treasuring this first for me. The first of waking up to a beautiful woman in my arms because, in my previous encounters, no one ever woke up in my bed with me. And I never stayed all night in theirs.

Relationships were something I ignored. I couldn’t remember what started me down that path –it probably had something to do with some weekend liberty when I was in the Army, as we would all go down to the local bar, get shit-faced drunk, and pick up women. Now I was having all sorts of thoughts. Before, getting married and having kids, like my partner, was far from my mind. That was, until I pulled some asshole off Ainsley and she came to the station to thank me. So … what did I want with her? Did I want something forever and go down the white picket fence lined road? I wasn’t sure, but what I did know was I didn’t want to ever see her with anyone else. I’d kill anyone who touched what was mine. And maybe it was a temporary thing and wouldn’t last. But I was certainly going to put forth some effort into exploring these feelings were which were causing my mouth to go dry and my heart to race whenever I saw her look at me with those crystal blue eyes. I wanted to keep her wrapped in my arms so I could protect her from everything evil. I never had those kinds of feelings before I met her.

Jeanine Binder grew up in a small town in California on the outskirts of Palm Springs, where the Hollywood celebrities liked to vacation. After thirty years, she packed up, moved to Arkansas where she still lives today. Her hobbies include her writing, reading good books, and seeing exotic places (loves to go on cruises).

Writing has always been a passion and hoping the next twenty years will bring many enjoyable books for others to read.

When the next King of country music offers to take you under his wing, what's a girl to do?

Pinch herself, of course. Repeatedly. Then take the offer!

Quinn Winters is tired of being the actress known for most killed off characters. After discovering her love of music when her last role portrayed a country singer on a daytime soap opera, she's making a much needed change in life. Quinn is unprepared for the demands and expectations needed to succeed in Music City. One pleading call from her sister puts her in an all too familiar, but unwanted position.

Five years ago, Tucker McGinnis auditioned for a reality singing show, never expecting to win. His sudden fame and popularity comes as a major surprise. After a multi platinum debut, his second album is suffering the dreaded sophomore jinx. His musical muse becomes elusive when guilt plagues him over an accident which affects his family. He is blown away by Quinn when he overhears her audition at his record label, singing his most personal song.

An attraction builds, and a connection through music is formed. But when life gets in the way, Tucker makes another offer - A temporary marriage which will benefit both of them, until things become too real.

Two souls destined for the stage, two hearts blending together to create beautiful music as individuals, but even better as country music's next power couple- if they can shed the images of who they used to be.

“No. I can't let that happen. She's my niece. I want to take her. Tell me what I have to do to become her guardian,” Quinn pleaded. “Winnie said she'd sign over custody if need be, so what do I do?”

“Quinn, how can you do that? Aren't you in Nashville trying to get a record deal? That's not the life Piper needs. She needs stability.” The woman's tone was sympathetic. Her gaze landed on Tucker. Something flickered in her eyes. Probably recognition.

“I'll sell the property Grams left me. It'll give me the money to take care of Piper and hopefully get something going for Winnie when she gets clean.” Desperation laced her voice. Tucker could tell by the stricken tone that she didn't want to go that route.

He had no idea what made him do it, especially since Quinn never agreed, but Tucker spoke without thinking on it too much. “She has stability. She's kinda living with me already. She's also started a job with me for the past few months, and we've become close. I- I know it's a short time, but I've been thinking about asking her to marry me. Is that stable enough?”

When Quinn gasped, Tucker stepped closer and closed his fingers over her cold, clammy ones. Forgive me, darlin'. I couldn't help myself. Again he'd made a ballsy, unlike him move. “I'm sorry to ruin the surprise, but you know I'll do whatever I can for you, and especially Piper.” His voice wavered. No taking the words back now. “I don't want to you give up that property. We've talked about this, darlin'” Did he pull off the act?

“Yes, ma'am. I heard Quinn's voice one day, and I couldn't stay away. We kept our relationship quiet for personal reasons, of course. Whatever we need to do in order to get Piper in Quinn's custody, please let us know. We'll make it all official right away if we have to. Quinn and Piper will be well cared for. The two of them won't have a thing to worry about.”

Dig a hole, why don'tcha?

The case worker attempted to keep her composure. Tucker noted the relief in her eyes. “I'll go get Piper so you can see her. We'll need to get official documentation and permission from your sister. If she'll sign over guardianship to you, we'll have this taken care of within a few days. If she refuses...” She started to walk away. “Oh, and Quinn? Congratulations. I'm so happy you're happy. Good for you.”

“You and me. Outside. Now,” Quinn muttered through clenched teeth. He followed her to the front porch. “What the hell were you thinking? Do you know how much worse you made this? Seriously, Tucker!”

I'm an avid lover of books. I've been writing as far back as I can r emember, completing my first "book" by fifth grade in one of those one subject spiral notebooks. I have a passion for music, photography, jewelry and all things creative. I live in Arizona with my husband and son, but dream of being somewhere much colder and stormier. For now, I'll have to live that life through my characters and stick it out with the summer heat.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” Caspian tells me. “I’ll just force you to do as you wish.”
I’ve always been a good girl. Partly by choice, partly because of my mother’s shame and my father’s belt.
Caspian White is strong. Handsome. Powerful. Frightening. The world knows his name, envies his wealth, suspects his kinks, and fears his wrath.I’ve kept myself pure, and that’s drawn Caspian to me like a predator to prey.
I don’t want to do what he wants me to. I just want to conclude my business with Caspian and go.
But Caspian seems to have been watching me for a while. I’m a target, and he knows me too well.
I’m afraid he’ll force me to do things I’ll regret … and that if he does, my shameful half will enjoy it.

She almost seems speechless. She has so much reason not to trust me. I’ve admitted to snooping into her private business, just like I snooped into the personal lives of so many other people. I can see the wheels turning inside her falsely sweet mind. I can see the distrust and consternation on her pretty face. She’ll pretend she doesn’t want to hear this; she just wants to storm out like she threatened. But I don’t think she will. I’ve lifted the lid of Pandora’s box, and now that she’s had a hint of what’s hidden, curiosity alone will compel her.
Aurora has reason not to trust me right now, and I’ve only told her a corner of what I’ve researched, what I know, what I’ve already dug up. She doesn’t know my connections, or how much money can expose. Truth is, I’ve been watching Aurora for months — since well before my trip to Colorado, where Bridget Miller unknowingly gave Aurora a run for her money.
But Bridget didn’t fascinate me the way Aurora does. Nobody does.
I watch her now, fighting a strange urge to tell her exactly what I have in mind. There’s an odd nervousness in my core, as if I haven’t sufficiently purged. I was just upstairs; I just spent my time decompressing. And yet Aurora has me riled again. She’s looking at me with those cool blue eyes, that halo of blonde hair that I find stunning even though she’s tried to ugly up, to bury its luster. Her slim, sloping nose, her slight features, her flawless skin.
I want more than anything to touch her.
To hold her in my hands.
To make her mine.
To show her how she’s wrong, and how I’m right.
There’s a small voice in my mind that threatens dissent, but it’s hard to understand. Whereas most of me wants to conquer Aurora’s naiveté for her own good — and mine, in the doing — a small part of me feels wounded by her quiet beauty. It’s like she holds a weapon against me, and wields it simply by existing before my eyes.
The dissenting voice inside me doesn’t want to show her she’s wrong.
That voice doesn’t want to correct her. Or dismantle her. Or break her so I can rebuild her.
No. That voice prickles at the back of my neck, urging me not to do this.
It’s the same feeling I had walking away from Lucy earlier, thinking about Aurora and how long I’ve pursued her before finally tricking her into chasing me into the coffee shop last week. It’s the same disturbing, uncomfortable, vaguely painful feeling I get every time I look at her private photos. The same quiet pain I feel now, as she watches me with eyes that don’t trust me — but that must, in a sense, if she chooses to stay.
Which she will.
And for some reason, right here and now, I don’t want to betray her. I don’t want to do this.
I imagine my father, dead in his grave.
I think of my mother, cowed to his every whim.
I think of Becky Jeffries. Myself all those years ago. The wax. The blades. The pleasure and the pain.
And for the first time in decades, I doubt myself.
“What are you talking about?” she asks.
No hesitation. No intimidation. To me, she looks as lovely and frail as one of my flowers, but there’s strength behind her. I see an inch of the woman she was on the dance floor. An inch of the woman she was when she pushed me against the restroom wall and took what she wanted. I doubt she knows her strength, or how beautiful it makes her to me.
I have to take a moment. I have to look away, then at her again. Five seconds later the odd flurry of emotions are gone and I am myself again: her instructor, ready to give her a truer education than she ever hoped to find. An education that will set her free.
“A wager,” I repeat. I pace, to distance myself from Aurora’s assessing stare. It’d hard to meet her eyes, as much as they excite me. I’m aware of my erection, but there’s nothing to do about that now. My arousal and anticipation have unmasked at least that much, but I’m hardly the only person in this room who’s dying to fuck. “A bet. A gamble. A game of stakes.”
“What’s the bet?” she asks.
“Your worldview against mine.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you do. You believe in fairy tales and happy endings. I believe in reality. You believe in light and optimism, whereas I’ve seen proof, in abundance, that the opposite is true. You think we can teach children out of who we are as a species. That we can change their futures with facts and figures.”
“Of course we can! Every study ever conducted has shown — ”
I wave my hand, less than dismissive. “Studies. Investigations. Reports. All conducted by people imbued with their own biases. It’s like setting out to see blue but doing so in red-tinted glasses. Every study ever conducted — on education or anything else — fails at the start because they all make one fatal assumption: that people are capable of being civilized. But it’s a lie. We’re all puppets for the animals we are deep down.”Aurora is shaking her head at Jasmine, who hasn’t spoken since I yelled at James to stop doing what I instructed him to do. For now. And the results are plain, making my point for me. Jasmine’s not paying attention to me, only to her beating heart and sensitive nipples. She’s not considering my argument even though she’s supposed to be the reporter; she’s thinking about her sopping-wet pussy. Jasmine knows perfectly well what’s acceptable and what’s not — what’s wise and what isn’t, what will help versus hinder her, what she’ll regret tomorrow and what she won’t — but Jasmine’s civilized nature isn’t in charge. It’s the wild beast beneath.
I can practically smell her lust. Like a bomb waiting to explode.
Even as Aurora challenges my gaze — sure she’s right and that I’m fucked up, jaded, and wrong — Jasmine is preparing to offer me all the proof I need.
I look at the recorder.
I look at Jasmine and see her stiff nipples. Her dilated pupils. James has turned her body into a furnace, warming my office to the tune of over 300 BTUs per hour.
In a minute, I’ll play my ace, and make the first move in this chess game.
But not yet.
“What happened to make you this way?” Aurora asks me. It’s more an accusation than a question.
“When you were dancing. When you were touching yourself in front of everyone, how did it feel?”
She rolls her eyes. Shakes her head.
“When you touched the vibrator to your clit,” I say, “how did it feel?”
“I threw it away. You’re lucky I didn’t call the cops and report you as a sex offender.”
I smirk. “When you slipped it inside yourself, how did it feel? With your eyes closed, did you think of me?”
She reaches for Jasmine, whose hand has strayed into James’s lap, now sitting on the couch beside her. “Let’s go, Jasmine. Grab your recorder.” When Jasmine doesn’t grab it, Aurora does, her stare challenging me to try and take it away. “Let’s give the press the best story they’ve ever had on Caspian White.”
“What made you put my cock in your mouth, Aurora? And when we came together, how did that feel?”
She stares at me with eyes like ice. The hatred turns me on. The hatred crushes me. The hatred makes her fascinating. I let my mind flit back to last night. I put myself in front of her, but it was only a guess as to how she’d behave, once turned on. I thought we might make out a little. I thought she might let me touch her. But what happened proved just how much more tightly bound life has made her, and how delicious she’ll be as an adversary.
“Aurora?” Jasmine says.
“We’re leaving.”
“Aurora, did you … ?”
“You know I’m right,” I answer first. “You know it felt good. All those things — those were your choices. I made you do nothing. I simply gave you a reason. An excuse. Nobody would have known, or seen. It was you being you, with your good girl mask removed.”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” she says. But I can see I’m upsetting her.
“You don’t have to believe me. You don’t have to admit anything. We’ll make a bet. I’ll donate another hundred thousand dollars to the school of your choice at every stage of the bet . And if you win, I’ll donate another million.”
“Fuck off.”
“Five million.”
“Jasmine, come on.”
“Ten million. In your name, if you’d like. Consider the good that much money could do. Just think of all the futures my money could change.” I say the last bit ironically, smirking as if there’s not a word I believe.
Aurora hesitates. She almost answers.
“I’ll put it in escrow so I can’t back out. You can choose the agent. I’ll transfer the funds into a holding account today.”
Her jaw moves. Her eyes fix on me.
“What’s the bet?”
“We’ll take turns. You take a day to show me you’re right. I’ll do whatever you want, so you can convince me. But then it’s my turn. And on my days, you will do what I say.”
“I’m not an idiot — I won’t agree to a blank check.” But she still hasn’t turned away, or gathered her bag. Proving my point, she’s intrigued — but won’t let herself admit it.
“I’ll add a condition. You don’t have to do anything. Just face it. I’ll let you show me the light, if that’s what you believe. Then I’ll show you the darkness.”
She’s considering my offer. Wheels turning. I don’t have to convince her; she’s already convinced. I just have to make it impossible to say no, because deep down she’s dying to agree.
“Ten million dollars,” she says. “Held by a third party. With one hundred thousand dollars for each of our ‘challenges.’”
It’s a ridiculous bargain. An impossible bet. One a good girl like Aurora would never, ever make — but that the real Aurora beneath is dying to discover.
I take my tablet from the end table. She watches as I authorize the transfer, then seems convinced I’ve done as I promised.
“Fine,” she says. “Convince me. Convince me that the world is a terrible place and that everyone is dark deep down.”
But I don’t answer. I turn to Jasmine instead.
“Jasmine,” I say. “I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars to delete what you’ve recorded.” I pick up the tablet. Jasmine’s bank information is already entered as the recipient, but this particular peculiarity goes unmentioned.
“Not everything and everyone is for sale. You can’t buy her.” But Aurora’s voice seems uncertain.
“Fifty thousand,” I say.
Jasmine reaches for the device, barely herself as she pushes buttons and makes the incriminating audio file disappear.
I smile at Aurora, initiate the transfer, and watch hate fill Aurora’s eyes, my first demonstration of cash over ethics established in seconds.
Then I look at James.
“Now fuck her,” I say, “while Aurora watches.”

Author Bio:
I love to write stories with characters that feel real enough to friend on Facebook, or slap across the face. I write to make you feel, think, and burn with the thrill that can only come from getting lost in the pages. I love to write unforgettable characters who wrestle with life's largest problems. My books may always end with a Happily Ever After, but there will always be drama on the way there.

The daughter of a sultan alpha, Selena Kurt agrees to an arranged wulfkin mating to protect her sister from a dangerous alpha from the enemy clan. To her surprise, her match is Marcin Ulf, the next in line for the Hungarian throne . . . and the wulfkin who broke her heart years ago.
Marcin is just as shocked to learn he’ll be matched to the enemy’s daughter and the woman he’s never forgotten. Before they can be paired, however, they’re drawn into a tournament where Marcin will compete to free his estranged imprisoned brother, while Selena battles for the life of another wulfkin alpha. Both intend to seize this chance to save those they’re fighting for – even if it means facing off with one another just as their romance rekindles.
Will tribe loyalty triumph, or will they realize they’re better off as a team before it’s too late?Cloaked in Blood is the book 3 in the Wulfkin Legacy series, but can be read a stand-alone-book.
Wulfkin Legacy Series:
Cloaked (prequel to #1) – Out now
Cloaked in Fur (Book #1) – Out now
Cloaked in Secrecy (Book #2) – Out now
Cloaked in Blood (Book #3) – Out now
Cloaked in Christmas – End of 2016Sign up here for T.F. Walsh’s newsletter to keep up to date with latest releases, giveaways, and exclusive content.

SELENA
Then another wulfkin entered the room behind him. Solid, tall, and all shoulders.
And suddenly my heart hammered so hard the walls seemed to be thumping too.
Marcin.
Windblown hair draped over his shoulders, tawny brown strands reaching halfway down his chest. His shirt was torn across his shoulder. Blood stained the fabric, worn as a badge of honor for whatever heroic deeds he’d accomplished.
Our gazes locked, and he stopped midstride. It was like a sucker punch to the gut. All the air left my lungs, leaving me light-headed.
Sea-spray blue eyes, darker than I remembered them, searched my face. Shock crammed behind his gaze as his cheeks blanched. He’d had no idea I was coming here—it was written all over his frozen expression, the way his mouth fell open, his breath hitched.
My wolf prodded me, stirring inside, well aware of who stood before us. Marcin had grown into even more of a wulfkin god: muscular, strong cheekbones, and a chest broad enough for me to sleep across. All I could think about was touching him to make sure he was real and not in my imagination.
Move closer. Take him.
I shouldn’t, yet every molecule in my body fought against the logic that said stay away.
Sure, I’d planned for this very moment and even practiced my nonchalant response in front of the mirror. Except now, my voice was wedged somewhere between my toes and head. My body shook with the desperate urge to be pressed up against him, feel his hungry kisses, and listen to his wicked whispers. I struggled with the charge in my veins screaming that I should run to him, throw my arms around his neck, and forget the past nine years. Forget that he tore out my soul. Forget that I mistook him as my mate because he’d lied to me. Abandoned me.

Author Bio:
T.F. Walsh emigrated from Romania to Australia at the age of eight and now lives in a regional city south of Sydney with her husband. Growing up hearing dark fairytales, she's always had a passion for reading and writing horror, paranormal romance, urban fantasy and young adult stories. She balances all the dark with light fluffy stuff like baking and traveling.